


my sanctuary, you're holy to me

by hedgefroglarents



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angel Harry, Angel Harry Styles, Church boy! Harry, Fetus Harry Styles, Fetus Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Fetus Louis Tomlinson, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, High School Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, High School Student Harry Styles, High School Student Louis, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, One Direction One Shot, One Shot, basically harry invites louis to a youth group and louis goes because hes whipped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:08:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgefroglarents/pseuds/hedgefroglarents
Summary: Louis isn't religious, but when the beautiful boy who just might be an angel asks you to meet him in the basement of the old stone church on the corner, you go.  Water damage and weak hot chocolate turn a random series of events into something special.





	my sanctuary, you're holy to me

At precisely 10:57 in the morning, Harry had told Louis to meet him in the basement of the old stone church. They shared third period together. American Literature. Louis sat behind Harry, who smelled like vanilla and freshly baked bread.

“Do you want to see me tonight?” asked Harry, tracing the etchings on Louis’ desk with his thumb.

“Of course,” replied Louis, watching Harry’s eyelashes flutter. Harry’s eyes were always wide, impossibly clear and innocent like a baby deer’s.

“Okay,” Harry smiled softly (he was always smiling softly, like some sort of Disney princess), “Meet me in the basement of the church on B Street at 5:30.”

And Louis just nodded, like he wasn’t afraid of the church’s glowing windows and ivy covered walls.

So now, Louis was walking in the pouring rain to the church he normally side eyed as he went by. His white trainers slapped against the soaked concrete, disturbing puddles and stepping on cracks as he went. He counted his steps, distracting himself from his destination.

_Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine._

Louis was not a religious person. He wasn’t the kind to have a cross hanging around his neck or a bible in his nightstand. He avoided churches at all costs. He had been in enough history classes to know what acts had been committed in the name of religion.

_Ninety-two, ninety-three, ninety-four_

And he also knew himself well enough to know that if the devil came knocking, he would be too courteous to not open the door.

Maybe that’s where the issue started. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t get Harry figured out completely. Maybe Harry was too pure for Louis. Maybe he was too good. For God’s sake, the boy looked like an angel out of a Renaissance painting with his blushing cheeks and cherubic curls. In Louis’ eyes, Harry glowed with a faint gold light, like he was being illuminated by some divine flame.

Yes, Louis was a little in love.

Which was why he was walking from his house 5 streets over to the church in a downpour that seemed to dampen his bones. His body was wracked with chills and he couldn’t stop shaking. Louis rounded a corner and saw the church. He was relieved upon seeing it looming in the distance. The random sense of comfort scared him a bit. He picked up his pace, still counting his steps.

_Onehundredandforty, onehundredandfortyone._

As he approached the church, he noticed the silence around him. No birds chirped or sang. No dogs barked. There was only the sound of his soggy white trainers and raindrops meeting the pavement.

Louis climbed the crimson painted stairs leading up to white and crimson painted doors. (Louis always figured red was the color of sin, but what did he know?). He reached out to open the door. He hesitated, hand hovering above the handle. He reminded himself that he was here for Harry. The Harry who looked beautiful in white. The Harry who always marked up his favorite passages of his dog-eared books in bright pink highlighter.

Louis took a deep breath and opened the door.

It was just a church. It had little white pews and a big white cross. The lighting was atrocious, harsh and fluorescent like the lights at school. Louis decided that if he started his own religion he would make fluorescent lights a sin.

He noticed a little piece of printer paper taped to the wall. It had a large arrow pointing to a door to the right of the cross. “Youth Group this way!”, it read, in a font that was way too close to Comic Sans for Louis’ taste.

And suddenly it dawned on Louis that Harry had invited him to a Christian youth group.

He felt like he was going to throw up. Louis almost turned around and walked out of the white and crimson doors into the downpour, but then he remembered who had invited him.

Harry. The Harry who said “um” a little too often and doodled tragically ugly birds when he got bored.

And so, Louis turned his dripping wet trainers around and went into the belly of the beast.

The church basement was freezing, almost as cold as outside. A gaggle of kids were congregated around a shitty old table, nibbling on cheap store bought cookies and filling styrofoam cups with hot water. Harry was one of them. His hands were wrapped tightly around his cup and he was warming his face with the rising steam. The tip of his nose was pink. Louis wanted to kiss it.

Harry looked up from beneath his eyelashes, his permanent soft smile widening into a grin.

“Louis!” he called, “You made it!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Louis responded, because it was the truth.

Harry beamed. The florescent lights didn't seem to touch him. He set his cup down on the chipped and worn table and gave Louis an enthusiastic hug. Louis’ body shuddered. Harry was so warm. His touch felt like it was charged by a thousand tiny suns.

Harry pulled away, “Louis, you're freezing!”

“I'll be fine,” Louis tried to shrug it off.

But Harry was already on the move, grabbing a styrofoam cup and nudging other kids out of the way, “Let me make you some hot chocolate,”

Louis’ heart felt warm.

Harry ripped open the hot chocolate packet with his teeth, spilling some of the powder on his knitted sweater. Some pieces settled in between the fibers, undoubtedly reaching Harry's skin. Louis never thought he'd be jealous of instant hot chocolate, but here he was.

“Here you go,” said Harry, handing him the hot chocolate, “this should warm you up,”

And of course it did. Louis’ fingers started to defrost and the chill that clung to his nose and cheeks seemed to recede. Louis took a sip, singeing his taste buds. He gulped, trying not to show he was in pain.

“Good?” Asked Harry.

Louis nodded and he was rewarded with a smile.

“C'mon, let's go sit down.”

Harry led the way. He took a seat next to some blonde kid who was strumming on his guitar. Louis sat down on the metal folding chair next to Harry's. The chair was cold and unforgiving. Louis could feel the cold radiating all the way through his jeans.

“So,” Louis cleared his throat, “you come here often?”

“About once a week. My mum makes me. Says it'll look good on uni applications.”

It made sense. Harry didn't seem like the type to hang out in a dingy church basement after school for the hell of it, even though Louis didn't quite have his finger on what exactly Harry's type was.

“So what happens?”

“Well, it's just basic church stuff. Like a Sunday service but less formal,”

“Oh,” said Louis, like he knew what happened at a Sunday service.

And with that, a relatively young, relatively handsome man walked into the room and called everyone to sit down. He was smiling. His teeth were unnaturally white, like the styrofoam cups. It made Louis uneasy.

He asked them all to stand and join hands. Louis looked over Harry, extending his hand slowly. Harry took it without hesitation. The blonde boy with the guitar started to lead the prayer. Harry closed his eyes. Louis couldn't seem to draw his gaze away from Harry. He decided it was okay. Harry couldn't see him anyways.

The prayer ended and they sat down. The man at the front of the room started talking about some scripture that Louis had never heard of.

Louis sipped his hot chocolate. It was weak and watery, but it was warm so it was good enough for him. Plus, Harry had made it.

Louis wanted to keep the cup for the rest of his life.

The minutes went by painfully slow. Some kid was starting to talk about repentance when Harry touched Louis’ thigh. Louis felt like he'd been shocked.

“Wait five minutes.” Harry instructed in a whisper, “Then come find me,”

Louis nodded. Harry got up and walked out the door.

Louis felt alone and uneasy without Harry. Five minutes felt like an eternity, but he waited them out. He could have waited four minutes, maybe even three, but he wanted to do as Harry said.

When his five minutes were up, he got up as casually as he could and walked out the door, closing it tightly behind him. He looked around the deserted hallway, wondering where Harry could've went.

Just then, the door to his right opened. Before he could even react, a familiar hand pulled him in.

“Jesus, Harry! I could've spilled my hot chocolate!”

Harry put a finger to his lips, “Shhhh. Talk quietly. The walls are thin and I don't want them to find us.”

Louis lifted an eyebrow, “And why is that?”

“I want to be alone with you,”

Louis smiled and took a look around the room. It was mostly empty except for a few boxes that seemed to be filled with random Christmas decorations. The floor was covered in the same classic carpet they used in seemingly every classroom in history.

“Lay down with me,” said Harry, nodding towards the ground.

“Here?” asked Louis. He was a little concerned about when exactly this carpet had been cleaned last.

But Harry nodded, and so he did it. They laid in the middle of the room, Harry sprawled out on left, Louis reclining on the right. Louis made sure there was just a little bit of space between them so he wouldn't seem too forward. They laid down in silence for a while, listening to each other breathe. Louis studied the ceiling. There was a lot of water damage. It would need to be replaced soon.

“What’s your favorite color?” asked Harry, breaking the silence.

“Green,” Louis answered, because it was the color of Harry’s eyes.

“Mines blue,” said Harry.

They carried on like this for a while, laying a few inches apart on the scratchy carpet that smelled like dust. Harry’s questions became more and more out there each time. _If you could have a superpower, what would it be?_ They both agreed on flying. _What’s your favorite bird?_ Louis didn’t have a preference, so he said swans. Harry was enamored by swallows.

The distance between them slowly decreased until they were touching arms. Louis felt like his whole body was thrumming with energy. He looked over at Harry. He was as beautiful as ever. His curls were all over the place, his cheeks pink. Absolutely angelic.

“Do you believe in God?”

Louis looked at the ceiling as if he was waiting for an answer to appear on the water stains, “I believe in love.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“I think so,”

“With who?”

Louis froze. He could answer a million different ways and avoid telling Harry all together. He could lie and Harry would never know. But he didn't want to lie to Harry. He closed his eyes and asked for a sign.

When he opened his eyes, his vision focused on an odd shaped splotch created by the water damage. His heart jumped. It was his sign. The splotch, all though small and slightly misshapen, was in the shape of a “U”.

And so, Louis took a breath and gathered all of his courage, “You,”

He stared straight up, refusing to look at Harry's face. The youth group prayed in the other room. Louis was considering joining them just for luck's sake when Harry pressed their lips together.

Louis’ body went rigid at first. He couldn't process what was happening.

Harry's lips were soft and smooth. Louis started to relax and give himself over to the moment. His lips moved with Harry's, their tongues slipping against each other. Harry tasted like hot chocolate.

After a while, Harry pulled away and rested his head on Louis’ chest, draping his arms around Louis’ small frame.

“I do.”

“What?”

“I believe in God. But only because you seem like some sort of divine intervention.”

           Louis knew Harry could hear his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He felt like he was floating about six inches off the ground.

          Suddenly there was a cacophony of footsteps and laughter. Harry began to sit up.

         “Where are you going?” Asked Louis. He already felt cold without Harry by his side.

          “We should leave with the crowd. We wouldn't want to get accidentally locked in the church overnight.”

          Louis normally would've shuddered with the thought, but he figured that if he were to be locked in a creepy old stone church in a rainstorm, he would want to be locked in with Harry.

          But Harry was already on his merry little way, standing by the door and waiting for Louis. Louis got up, not wanting to keep him waiting.

         They made their way up the stairs, past the big white cross and through the little white pews.

         Harry opened the door with the sinful crimson detailing and gestured for Louis to go through. It was still pouring. Louis wasn't looking forward to the journey home. He put up the hood on his grey hoodie and stepped outside. Harry was only a few seconds behind. When he stepped outside, the rain slowed significantly. He took Louis’ hand, and the storm trickled to a stop.

         He smiled his soft smile and fluttered his beautiful lashes and in that moment Louis was absolutely positive he was holding hands with an angel.

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by "700 Club" by Nicole Dollanganger. The title is from "Church" by Fall Out Boy. You can follow me @ hedgefroglxrents on Tumblr :) send me fic ideas!


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